


These Quiet Thoughts

by sarahxsmile



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahxsmile/pseuds/sarahxsmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day (or night, rather) that Carlos wakes up with a tattoo is the day he thinks that perhaps he's been in Night Vale too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Quiet Thoughts

The day (or night, rather) that Carlos wakes up with a tattoo is the day he thinks that perhaps he's been in Night Vale too long. 

To be fair, he doesn't think he can be faulted for staying. Everything is so interesting here, and there's nothing that isn't worth looking at. Even the grass will coil around his feet and ankles if he steps on it for too long (and he does try not to step too far from any paved ground, now). 

The tattoo doesn't hurt, at least. And, he thinks as he examines the mark (a great, looping thing, all along the left side of his body, even around the bottom of his foot), regardless of all of the Bad Things that happen in Night Vale, there are good ones too. The people (or whatever else they might be) are generally kind enough. There are angels- he knows, he's met them (he's a scientist, after all, and simply _had_ to go visit Old Woman Josie to see what the fuss was about (the light bulb works even when not plugged into a socket, now)). And of course, there's Cecil. 

Cecil, who was more than a little off putting at first, with black black eyes and sharp teeth and a too wide smile. Skin that seemed to shift over his bones far too easily. Cecil, who offered his number, his personal number (the one Carlos didn't throw away (though it was mostly because he knew Cecil could reach a wide audience with his radio show)). Cecil, who talked _on air_ about Carlos with words like _sweet_ and _perfect_ and _beautiful_. 

Carlos shakes his head as he thinks about it, feeling his skin a bit warmer than before, and heads to his bathroom, stepping over the lump in his carpet on the way. He leans close to the mirror when he can, pushing his shoulder forward. Careful to keep his gaze on his own body and not on anything else that might be mirrored, he touches carefully. He ignores the sometimes burn when he presses down too hard, and thinks he might ask someone about it (the someone springing into his mind being Cecil, naturally).

He goes back to his room to dig around in the pockets of what he was wearing that day, finding his phone caught in some string and tweezers he had left in his pocket. He hesitates over Cecil's name, not sure why but for the metaphorical back flip he feels his stomach do, before selecting the call button.

Cecil's voicemail is simple and quick, and Carlos leaves only a brief message (he asks Cecil to call him back or maybe to come meet him when he can). Cecil calls back soon after, during what Carlos assumes must be The Weather, and says they can meet at Arby's because it's easiest and they both know the way.

Carlos puts on a shirt and a more casual lab coat over that before heading out the door, getting in the car and once he gets out of the drive, careful to follow the signals correctly. He ends up there early, waiting on the trunk of his car, feet tapping against the bumper (he keeps trying to play out songs he used to know (he's forgotten a lot of them)). When Cecil walks up, Carlos ignores his urge to ask where Cecil's car is and pulls the collar of his shirt aside. 

"I woke up with this," he says. Cecil steps closer and eyes the tattoo, what he can see of it, before he smiles faintly. He lifts his hand as though to touch, but stops his fingertips short of Carlos's skin. Carlos is very sure not to sigh in any kind of vague disappointment. 

"It happens," Cecil says instead, undoing the top buttons on his shirt, revealing a similar mark going around his collarbones. He pushes his sleeves up as well, showing even more patterns, each one different. Diamonds and circles and eyes all looping together.

Carlos thinks he should be worried. That at one point, he would have run fast from a place where something like this was normal enough (he isn't always sure how he managed to keep the courage to stay in this town, sometimes (sometimes he knows he could never leave, not with the way the town is like an unturned stone)). 

Instead, he pulls Cecil up next to him so they can sit, shoulder to shoulder. He doesn't release his hold on Cecil's hand, instead allowing his gaze and fingertips to draw over the scars curling over Cecil's skin. He'd ask where they came from if he thought he'd get an answer (but it's hard to know, in Night Vale, just what people remember and what they don't 

(He doesn't think it matters much anyway))


End file.
